


At Full Speed

by Darksidedawn



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Canon Compliant, Character Study, Dean Winchester Loves The Impala, Dean Winchester-centric, Gen, Inspired by a Jack's Mannequin Song, Missing Scene, Some Swearing, Sort of? - Freeform, Two uses of the f word
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-14
Updated: 2020-10-14
Packaged: 2021-03-08 19:55:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 337
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27012370
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Darksidedawn/pseuds/Darksidedawn
Summary: Dean Winchester has some thoughts while driving to find his Dad.
Comments: 1
Kudos: 2





	At Full Speed

Dean sucks in a deep breath, drums his fingers against the wheel, and exhales. This is the fifth werewolf pack they’ve killed in a row, and they’re still no closer to finding Dad. Just the thought of it makes him push the accelerator a bit more, before he eases off again. This is a notoriously cop-ridden road; the last thing he needs is to be pulled over. Sam shifts a little and grumbles in his sleep; Dean allows a small smile to ghost over his face at his baby brother being in the car again, on a hunt, as one little fucked up family.

The smile fades when thoughts of his dad come back, and he speeds up again. Fuck it, if it comes down to it, he can outrun any cop in the Midwest. Sammy was pre-law, right? So they’ll be fine. Lights come up and he slows down, but it’s just some kids letting off fireworks in a field, miles from where Baby is. He has to shake himself; is it the fourth of July already? Time really flies when you’re searching like hell for your missing father.

He relaxes a bit, allowing himself to enjoy the guitar riff of “Welcome to the Jungle,” that’s playing on the radio, which he generously turned down to allow Sammy his beauty sleep. This is where America truly shined, in his opinion. Not the Lincoln Memorial, not the Golden Gate Bridge, just two-lane asphalt that stretched for miles. Thousands of other people, maybe with a car like his, though not a story, have traveled this same road. He shakes himself again, he’s getting dangerously close to a chick-flick moment. The white lines in his peripheral vision whiz past as he turns the radio back up a little, Sammy’s waking up. The light from the window lands on his brother’s face, making him squint a little, and suddenly Dean laughs. This is where he belongs, on a road, with his brother, in his Baby, going nowhere at full speed.


End file.
